


Got the Cream

by YourFavoriteRobot



Category: Avengers (Comic), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms, aveng
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourFavoriteRobot/pseuds/YourFavoriteRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is coasting through life after leaving the army without making any real connections to anyone around him. Until a mischievous deity turns Steve's only friend, his cat Tony, into a human being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Now, it is true that benevolent gods watch over us all; some are as kind as they are powerful, who do naught but take pleasure in making joyous the hearts of man. Then there are other gods, gods who wield their immeasurable powers simply for their own amusement, and the trouble is that when one throws their wish out into the heavens, one can never be sure whose mitt it’s gonna end up in.

Steve Rogers was not an unhappy man. In a world where so many had so little he felt that he had no right to complain. He had a roof over his head and food in his belly. He had a sense of satisfaction from having done what he felt was his duty and birthright by following in his grandfather’s footsteps and serving his country.

Steve’s grandmother had raised him, and she raised him well on stories of his grandfather who fought and died bravely for the things that everyone should have. So when Steve was eighteen he enlisted because he couldn’t think of a more noble thing to do with his life.

Training hardened his body, put an amount of muscle on his frame that he never imagined possible in a youth spent mostly with his nose in books, only reading about glorious heroes. A gawky kid turned into a man who looked like a solider, like a hero from a story.

But war was not glorious. And no words put to paper could ever describe the terrible things that he saw. Still, every day he continued, running on the memories of the stories, like fumes in a gas tank, believing with heart and soul that he was doing good.

Steve’s grandmother died while he was overseas, and when he got home the world felt all the more empty for it. It was a bright sunny day when they buried her. The birds carried on singing without a care for any one's sorrow. People said kind things, laid their flowers and left. In an hour it was only Steve and the birdsong.

Steve Roger’s was not an unhappy man, but he was a lonely one.

But the thing about life is that it keeps going with absolutely no regard to whether you are sad or lonely or tired or happy as an old cat napping in the sun.

So Steve lived.

He did all the things that living seems to entail; he got a place to live and a job in art supply store and he took up old hobbies of reading and drawing and tried with all of his considerable will to act as though everything was just as it was before.

When that didn’t work he got a cat.

To be fair, the cat got him, as cat’s are often wont to do. The little bastard of a creature had stalked around the apartments terrorizing bird and man alike with impunity. Steve didn’t actually mind, he never really liked birds. Then one night, there was a horrible noise in the garden and Steve had opened the door to see what the unearthly screeching was about when a little black blur streaked in past him ran around his small apartment in mad frantic circles until finally curling up in the middle of Steve’s bed and falling asleep.

So Steve had a cat and that was okay, at least it gave him someone to talk to.

“I could go to art school.” Steve mused at the cat, who, after a period of denial of ownership, he had named Tony.

Tony yawned and flopped over to face the wall.

“I could,” Steve argued, “I’m not bad and if I went I could get better. It would beat working in a store.” 

Tony twitched his tail a few times.

“You got a better idea?” At that Tony stood and padded across the bed spread to sit himself on Steve’s sketch book

“Yeah, right. I’ll just stay home all day and pet you, that what you want?”

Tony purred.

“Yeah fine, just for a little.” Steve scratched the cat lightly behind the ears, it hadn’t taken Tony very long to train him.

This is the part of the story where those Gods, kindly or otherwise, come into play--but first it should be stated, just for the record, that Tony was, up until this point, a completely ordinary sort of cat. That is to say, he was as all cats, very strange. He enjoyed riding in Steve's car but was terrified of the sound it made as it started. He loathed being wet but would always try to bat at the water that fell as Steve showered in the morning. He would sleep for hours on end as though he was dead but then take to zooming around the house chasing nothing with extreme prejudice. He was every inch a cat, nothing more and nothing less.

Until Steve came home from a long exhausting day, sitting heavy on the sofa and Tony dutifully padded up to rub his legs with his face and then jump up into Steve's lap so that he could unburden himself to his warm little friend.

"Well I'm officially a laughingstock."

Tony purred, not unsympathetically.

"Apparently telling the most beautiful girl you work with that your not really looking to date makes you about as gay as a Broadway show about...I don’t know, glitter?"

Tony gave a fussy mewl but it might just have been a direction to pet a little softer on his right side as his last less than graceful trip down from the bookshelf left him a bit sore.

"Yeah well, you're no wordsmith either, Fuzzy. I don't know what's wrong with me. Sharon is great but I can't be with anyone. I'm, I'm boring. I'm not cool or flashy, I make lousy jokes, know too much about old history books and guns and not enough about movies or celebrities. She would be ready to leave before the appetizers were done and then things would just be strange between us."

Tony head butted Steve's chin and amped up the purr by a few decibels.

“Yeah, well at least you like me. The thing is, I don't even care what they say about me. I don't know that I wouldn’t date a guy, but it would have to be the right guy just like it would have to be the right girl. Someone who's, I don't know. A friend. A real one not just a work friend or someone I knew in school but someone who likes me, all of me, even the weird or boring stuff.

Tony nuzzled Steve's hand and Steve sighed. "I'm just afraid the only person who is ever gonna do that is you, little guy."

Somewhere in the heavens a special combination of words was waited for. Two words that had the power to start everything in motion.

'I wish," the universe held its breath, "I wish that I had a guy just like you, Tony. You know, just without the kibble breath."

And then there was work to be done.

\---

Steve had his Tuesday shift canceled, which was going to look bad on his paycheck, but he was looking forward to a lay-in.

At about 6:45 just as the sun started to really make some progress on the sky, Steve was stirred awake by a hand gently batting at his face.

“Hey, hey you. Wake up.”

Steve jumped fully out of his bed, flinging the covers over whoever had evaded his home.

“Don’t move you son of a bitch, I’m calling the cops!” Steve shouted in his most commanding voice (which was genuinely something rather terrifying and would have put the fear of god into any sane person) as he looked around trying to find his phone.

“What?” the man in Steve’s bed flailed comically under the sheets trying to extract himself. “Wait, Steve, where did you go, I’m lost, God I’m lost you have to help me, I’m--” he finally managed to struggle out of the sheets and blinked big blue eyes across at where Steve stood at the door. “Oh there you are. I’m okay now. Why are you yelling?”

“Who are you? What are you doing in my bedroom?” Steve looked the man over; he had messy black hair sticking out at all angles, a sort of roguishly handsome face with a full mouth fixed in puzzled pout and framed in a trim black goatee. From the neck down he was all compact lean muscle, which Steve could clearly see because-- “And why the hell are you naked?”

“I’m always naked!” the man snapped back, finally becoming annoyed at the shouting. “It’s not my fault you’re too big and stupid to remember who I am.”

“I don’t know you. I’ve never met you before.” Steve was easing up marginally. There was still a lot of adrenaline running through him keeping him at the ready, but the man on the bed was too relaxed, too open. He wasn’t a threat, Steve could tell on instinct. But that still didn’t explain what he was doing here.

“But you’re my-- you feed me, and you pet me. You’re my person. Come on Steve don’t be dumb. Please.” The strange man was starting to look scared at the lack of recognition, genuinely hurt that Steve didn’t know him.

Then something crossed Steve’s mind. The sort of random firing of synapses that makes you think to look for your keys in the freezer, or makes you wonder if people on the bus can hear what you are thinking.

“Tony? Is that--” the man grinned and Steve heard his head thunk back against the door, only vaguely aware that he was slowly sliding down to the floor.

Tony padded over and curled up in Steve's lap, which would have been the most normal thing in the world if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve’s cat was now a full grown man. At a loss, Steve just patted him on the head as Tony nuzzled against his stomach and then looked up.

“Steve, Steve, hey. When you are done on the floor you should make food.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna need a minute here buddy.”

Tony made a sad but understanding noise and settled against Steve’s thigh.


	2. Chapter 2

Humans are, for all their numerous faults, surprisingly adaptable. So it only took Steve a few minutes to recover from the shock, then a few more to let himself believe he wasn’t crazy and this was all actually real. Weird things happened, things that couldn’t be explained and Steve guessed this was just one of them.

After all what else could it be? Tony wasn’t trying to steal anything or hurt Steve. There was nothing to be gained for a man pretending to be his cat; Steve had no great wealth or power for anyone to get at. He didn’t have the sort of acquaintances who would go through the trouble of pulling this elaborate of a prank on him. So how else could someone get into his locked apartment and curl up in his bed? And besides, he just _was_ Tony; he felt like him, moved like him, and looked up at Steve in just the same way. As impossible as it was, there was just no other explanation.

Steve looked down at Tony who was happily curled up on the floor with most of his upper body in Steve’s lap. He let his eyes travel down to where the blanked had fallen away showing the dip of Tony’s spine and the round curve of his buttocks. Steve snapped his eyes up at the wall across from him. Well, that was going to have to be dealt with fast.

“Tony." Steve took a steadying breath and pulled Tony up to sit. "We are going to have to talk and figure something out about--well, whatever happened to you, but first you have got to get some clothes on."

Tony blinked at him for a moment, considering. He answered "No," sharp and simple, and stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Steve blushed brightly and tried to keep his eyes on Tony's face.

"What do you mean, no? You can't just--Tony, you have to wear clothes."

"No, I don't." Tony flopped back onto the bed, his legs hanging over the edge, spread casually with innate shamelessness and arms flung up over his head in a stretch.

"Dear god." Steve was a brave man but he knew the value of tactical retreat. He stood sharply and faced away from the bed a quarter turn.

"You never cared before. I told you, I'm always naked. You are too, all the time." Tony yawned and pawed at the air lazily.

"I am not--" But Tony was actually right. Steve showered every day and sometimes if he had nothing else to do, he would go about his home in a towel or less. On hot days his bedroom got horribly baked by the sun in the afternoon, and he would often sleep without clothes on top of the sheets. And all that time Tony, now the man on his bed, had been there. "It's got to be different now Tony. People wear clothes around other people.”

"Why?" Steve considered for a moment and then decided to lie for the sake of brevity.

"I don't know they just do."

"Fine." Tony raised an arm into the air and flipped his hand around in a circle. "Bring me clothes. I'll see if I like it, but no promises."

Steve was too grateful about the concession to even think to be offended at the nature of it.

\---

“Okay." Steve and Tony sat across from each other at a little square dinning table. Tony (now swimming in one of Steve’s large shirts and a pair of boxers that only just stayed on his hips by a prayer) was working voraciously through a plate of bacon and eggs while Steve mostly just watched him and occasionally remembered to take a bite himself. Mastery of the knife and fork was not actually as difficult to talk Tony into as Steve had feared; it made things faster and kept his hands and face clean.

"Muh?" Tony looked up from his food, but only for a moment.

"Tony, do you have any idea how this happened?" Steve couldn’t help staring, but at least Tony didn’t seem at all bothered by the attention.

"I thought you did it." Tony shoveled another bite into his mouth.

"Me?"

"Yeah you can do lots of stuff, make lights and the TV and the car go. Don’t really worry about it most of the time, you’ve got all that handled." Tony shrugged and looked forlornly down at his now empty plate.

"I can't--" once more Steve felt at a loss for where to even start, "I can't do that, Tony."

"Well, then I have no idea, but if this is what people eat all the time then I'm not going to be a cat anymore. Are you going to finish that?" Tony pointed at Steve’s plate with his fork.

Steve smiled, overcome by a strange feeling, maybe it was madness, but as least it was a nice sort. He was so far out of his depth in a situation so beyond anything he could hope to predict or control that he felt strangely freed of the need to do so.

And so the first day went by with Steve teaching Tony all the ins and outs of basic human existence. He found himself surprised again and again by how much Tony seamed to be aware of things and was certain he would never look at cats in the same light again. As they went through the day, gaps in his knowledge began to frustrate Tony, who took nothing at face value and demanded to know how and why everything happened as it did, but Steve was happy to sit down and explain as much as he could.

Somewhere in the middle of a Wikapedia aided explanation of what electricity was, Steve remarked, “This would be a lot easier if you could just look things up yourself, you can’t-- can you read at all?” It wasn’t that stupid a question, Steve thought, after all he could speak perfectly well--who knows what had been hiding away in his cat’s head?

“Of course I can, ” Tony looked affronted and though he no longer had it Steve could almost sense his tail flicking.

“Oh well then you do this on your own, let me show you how to--”

“Well I’m sure I probably can, what is it?”

Steve sighed.

“Okay, lets start you off with the basics,” Tony curled up against him on the sofa as Steve googled for some Sesame Street videos.

\---

By the end of the day things with Tony almost felt normal. Whatever magic had occurred had left nothing else disturbed. There were no reports on the news of any other strange happenings, no fire in the sky or panic on the streets. The sun set just as it always had done and Steve felt certain it would rise just the same.

As the night drew to a close Tony and Steve found themselves as they had been many times before; both laid down on the bed on top of the covers, Steve with a book in his hands but Tony was, instead of being curled on Steve's stomach purring contently, now laid out over his stomach watching videos on Youtube, headphones over his head smashing down his chaotic hair in a way Steve couldn't help but find adorable

Steve reached down casually to scratch Tony's neck. "How are you doing down there, buddy?"

When Tony ignored him, choosing to carry on staring at the screen with the same rapt attention that he had displayed for the last six hours, Steve taped him lightly on the back of the head to get his attention.

Tony looked up slightly annoyed, and lifted one side of the headphones from his ear, "What do you want, I'm very busy."

Steve laughed and shook his head. "Just wanted to see how you are getting on. Do you need me to find you more videos?" Steve had taught Tony how to pause and replay videos and how to move back and forth in the queue of fifty-some educational videos he had cobbled together.

Tony took to it instantly and wanted to do nothing else once he got the hang of it. At intervals Steve brought him food that was received with complaints that it wasn’t more bacon, but Tony was soon sold on the promise that there was more bacon actually in the sandwich.

"Nah, I got it." Tony put the headphones back on and turned back to the screen with the same focus. Steve looked down again to see what Tony was watching when he realized that Tony was typing.

Steve sat up forcing Tony to shift in his lap,

“Hey don’t move I’m laying here, you always do that it’s so---Stop give that back, I told you I’m busy!” Steve ignored Tony snatching the laptop away to see what exactly he had been doing.

One thing was for sure, Sesame Street had been left far behind. Tony had managed to not only start searching for videos on his own but had several tabs open with random searches for everything from bacon to airplanes. The truly staggering thing was that Steve had grabbed the laptop away from Tony while he was in the middle of making a post on a cat owners forum. The English was poor, and in all caps, maybe that of a seven or eight year old, but it was still almost terrifying.

Before Steve could say anything Tony snatched the laptop back and hugged it to his chest.

“That’s MINE, I was using it!” Tony shouted and then hopped off the bed to go sit in the corner with it.

Steve was almost ready to shout back but stopped. He had just wrenched the laptop out of Tony’s hands without asking, something so rude he wouldn't have even thought to do it to anyone else. Tony wasn't a cat anymore, and if Steve was going to ask him to wear clothes and eat with a fork then the least he could do was treat him with the same basic respect he would anyone else.

Steve got up and walked over to where Tony was curled up with the laptop, typing away with great concentration and intensity.

"I'm sorry I grabbed the computer without asking. I was just really surprised you picked it up so fast."

"S'ok, you do it all the time," Tony mumbled as he pecked at the keyboard with increasing speed.

"Well, that doesn't make it okay and I won't do it again." Tony shrugged, the offense already forgotten. Steve sat himself on the carpet next to Tony and glanced over at what he was up to. He seemed to be in the middle of an argument with kittenmomma72 about what constituted a healthy feline diet. She was apparently under the impression that he was either very young or very foreign.

"How did you do that Tony?" Steve asked finally, trying to get a handle on the idea that he might be intellectually outclassed by his cat.

"Oh, it's just this one," Tony pointed at the caps lock key, "it makes the letters bigger so they know you're important."

"No Tony." Steve chuckled, the talk on internet etiquette could wait until later. “How did you learn to write so fast?" Tony shrugged.

"I don't know. I just figured it out, wasn't hard. Once I worked out how to use the dictionary it went a lot faster." Steve just smiled at that in amazement. Steve didn’t really know anything about biology or mental development, but he thought maybe because Tony’s brain was now so much larger than before that he just had more room to remember stuff. It seemed more likely than the idea that he might have been unknowingly living with the Stephen Hawking of the feline set. Still, it was pretty damn impressive.

"That's amazing Tony, you're really brilliant." Even after just reminding himself that Tony was no longer his pet and shouldn’t be treated as such Steve couldn't help reaching up to pat Tony on the head.

"I know." Tony assured him and leaned against his shoulder as he typed.

After a moment.

“Tony, that’s actually with an ‘e’ not a--” Steve pointed at the screen.

“I don’t care. Shut up, I can do it.” Tony batted his hand away.

“Tony you can’t just tell me to--”

“You can pet me while I type. That would help.” Tony smiled at Steve in a hopeful sort of way that was just about as close as cats get to ‘sorry.’

“Alright Genius, let’s get back on the bed though. I stay down here all night and my back’s going to end up killing me tomorrow.”

Only after Steve said the words and Tony was already up and moving did he realized how it sounded. Steve shook his head. Tony had shared his bed for over a year, it would only be weird if Steve made it so.

Steve’s ever helpful memory supplied him with a vivid recollection of Tony, human Tony, laid out naked on his bed, painting it with more warm sensual overtones than the incident had actually possessed. Maybe he could just sleep on the--

“Steeeve!” Tony called in a whine, “You need to be over here now.”

This was going to be a weird night.


	3. Chapter 3

In a cat, the drive to mate is an unstoppable force; it is a burning fever that consumes reason and overwhelms all other need or want, insuring that the species continues and thrives in numbers. The human sex drive is, in a way, much the same only far more focused on the process than the results.

Tony had, in his previous life, been in the habit of sleeping curled up on the small of Steve's back. No longer able to fit as he had before, Tony had now opted for laying himself out on top of Steve like a human blanket.

There was nothing in and of itself wrong with the arrangement--it was comfortable and cozy, and the way Tony softly nuzzled the back of Steve's neck was really rather lovely for both parties--but the issue lay in the fact that Tony had managed to worm out of his clothing at some point in the night and was now exploring his newly acquired physiology against the curve of Steve's pajama-clad bottom.

Tony keened quietly, still half asleep and working on basic instinct. When he rolled his hips against Steve it felt good, more than good. It felt amazing, better than warm sun on his tummy or getting leftover chicken, so of course being the devotee of hedonism that he was, he keep doing it.

Vaguely, in some corner of his mind, Tony was aware of the connection between what he was doing now and the idea of mating. It was physical similar enough, but this was on the whole drastically different. Mating was an aggressive act of claws, violence and bloodshed. This was as far from that as you could get. Steve was warm and cuddly and smelled like home. Tony himself was far less frantic that he would have been as a cat, and was, as far as he knew, in no danger of losing an ear in this process. Tony decided that he liked this far better and happily nuzzled his nose in to the soft little hairs on the nape of Steve's neck while he worked at getting himself off.

As Tony began to move faster, urgency building as it all began to feel impossibly good, Steve woke up confused by a few things, mainly: the weight on his back and the steady rocking motion that was not unpleasantly grinding him in to the mattress.

A couple of groggy seconds of thought would have let him know just what was happening, but no further wondering was needed as the warm sticky feeling on his back and the mewling cry from Tony above him told him exactly what had just occurred.

Steve pushed himself up throwing Tony of him and sending him to the floor with a thump. He rubbed his back clean with the sheet and then glared down at Tony who had just recovered and popped his head up over the edge of the bed.

"What the hell were you doing?" Steve shouted, as astonished as he was angry.

Tony blinked and thought for a moment.

"You know, I'm not exactly sure, but it felt really really good. I wanna do it again--or we could take turns. I don't know. I'll figure something out, but you gotta try it."

Steve stared down at Tony, who was giving him a wide happy grin and found himself completely speechless.

"Tony..." Steve tried, but just took a deep breath and offered Tony a hand up on to the bed. This was probably going to take a lot of explaining.

Tony took the hand and hopped back up onto the bed, grinning and eager to carry on with this new sort of play. Steve, out of habit and to give himself another moment to order his thoughts, reached out to pat Tony on the head and scratch behind his ear. Tony happily leaned into the affection.

"Tony, you can't do that to someone without, well, without asking them first.”

"Oh." Tony blinked and then stared at Steve, obviously waiting for something.

"What?"

"Are you going to ask, or what?" Steve’s shoulders slumped. The sky was still a dark bluish grey strip between the curtains of the bedroom window and it was way too early for this.

"No, I..." Steve desperately wanted to be talking about anything else. "I don't want to do that right now, Tony." It wasn’t a completely lie--the body may have been still at least semi-willing, but Steve liked to think he wasn’t so desperate as _that_ yet.

"Why not?" Tony seemed genuinely shocked. "It feels amazing, I'd do it again now but it doesn't seem to wanna go. Actually, I'm kinda sleepy now. And hungry."

Another deep steadying breath.

“The thing is, it’s-- well, when people do that, Tony...”

Tony tilled his head watching curiously while Steve struggled with the words.

“Well, not everyone I guess, but--”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

Steve sighed. “When I am intimate with someone, I like for it to mean something. Not just getting off but going through all of the parts leading up to that, all of the things--”

“What things? Are there more things?”

“Yes, lots of things, Tony, that’s what I was trying to tell you bef--”

Tony grinned wide and hungry. “Great, you can show me all of them.” Tony lunged, but Steve held him back by the shoulders, setting him back in his place.

“No, Tony. It’s not,” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “it’s something you do with someone special. Someone that you love.”

“Yeah, Steve you’re being dumb again. You love me, remember? You tell me so all the time.”

“There are different kinds of...”

Tony had clearly decided that Steve didn’t know what he was talking about and leaned in to nuzzle his cheek and curl up against him.

“It’s okay Steve, I love you too, you can stop talking now, it looks painful when you try.”

Steve rubbed his face with his hand, trying to think of some way he could impress upon Tony that, while they did love each other, there was a very large difference between the affection you felt for a pet and the sort that made it okay for someone to use you as a masturbatory aid. A task that would have been much easier if Tony hadn’t felt so warm and good cuddled up against him. 

“Tony, just promise me that you won’t ever do that again, to me or anyone else, without asking first, okay? It’s really important.”

“Alright,” Tony responded with enough gravity that Steve felt safe in the belief that he meant it.

“Good,” Steve patted Tony on the shoulder. “Let’s go back to sleep I think--”

Blaring beeps cut through the air and the phone on Steve’s bedside table lit with his morning alarm. He groaned and reached over to switch it off.

“Breakfast?” Tony asked hopefully.

\---

 

“NO, God no, please. Don’t make me do it, I don’t WANT to do it. Let me go please, pleeeeease--” Steve found himself a while later in the unique position of trying to pry five feet and eleven inches of man off a door jam to which he ferociously clung.

"Tony it’s just a shower, you need to get clean. You’re starting to smell. It’s only going be for a few minutes.”

"Nooooo Steeeeve, I hate you. Why are you doing this? Nooooooo...” Steve was sure if this kept going someone was going to call the police.

“Alright fine.” Steve let go and took a step back. Tony still clung fast to the wall but turned to see what Steve was doing.

“You win, I’m going to go start breakfast.”

Tony watched him warily as he walked out of view around the corner. Finally, when he heard the sound of the fridge he released his grip. A moment later he was being tackled and hoisted off the ground. Tony let out a horrible shriek as Steve threw him into the shower, turned the water on full blast and slammed the curtain shut on him.

Tony continued to wail and scramble for a moment but then, to Steve's great relief, he quieted down.

"Hey, this is kinda nice. Warm. Alright I can do this."

"I told you."

"Yeah, Yeah. You tell me a lot of things."

Steve paused and considered a moment. Curiosity winning out over what would have been a good step towards establishing some much needed boundaries, he pulled back the curtain to find Tony sitting on the shower floor with his back to the spray. Steve leaned against the wall and watched as Tony turned, blinking against the water, and smiled at him.

No one ought to be so frustrating and so adorable at the same time.

“Soap,” Steve pointed. “And shampoo. That is for your body, that is for your hair. There are towels under the sink.”

“I know where the towels are, I sleep under there. Did, anyway. Don’t think I’d fit any more.” Tony turned, scrutinizing the cupboard trying to work out the geometry of it.

Steve sighed and shut the curtain.

\---

By the time Tony was done in the bath, fed and napping on the sofa, all of the hot water and most of Steve's morning were used up and he could only grab a fast cold shower that, if he was honest with himself, he actually needed after being on the receiving end Tony's special brand of affection.

Clean and shaved--and there was another thing he was going to have to go over with Tony, the list just kept building--Steve sat on the sofa next to where Tony slept curled up under a towel and pulled on his shoes. He was only a little behind schedule. If traffic was okay he would be just on time instead of his customary fifteen minutes early.

Tony lifted his head

"Oh no, don't do that."

Steve dared to ask, "What?"

"The shoes, the shoes mean you're leaving and you are going to be gone for ages. It’s so boring, Steve, you have no idea." Tony pulled out the whole display: whining, eye rolling, he even flopped himself in to Steve’s lap to bodily stop him from reaching the laces.

"Hey, it's no fun for me either but I gotta work." Steve gently pushed him aside and carried on as Tony watched him.

"Why?"

"Because they pay me money, then I can trade the money for food and other things and pay people to let me live here."

Tony looked puzzled for a moment but finally shrugged

"Alright, but what am I supposed to do all day?”

“What do you normally do all day?”

“Sleep and wait for you to come home.” Tony answered as though it was the plainest thing in the world and Steve thought he felt his heart break a little.

“Well, you have the computer,” Steve offered sympathetically, “and I left food. You remember how to use the microwave?”

“You remember how I made the clock on it stop blinking twelve?” The sarcasm at least helped Steve feel a little less guilty about leaving.

“You’ll be fine Tony.” Steve patted his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know I’ll be fine, but I’m still going to miss you.” The contradiction of shrugging off someones touch and crossing arms against them, while at the same time asking them not to leave was less amusing than Steve would have imagined.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Promise.” Steve leaned in and kissed Tony on the forehead, only thinking better of it later, once he was out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

It was only when Steve was out of the house and Tony’s company that he remembered that there was a world outside of his apartment and the real gravity of the situation came down on him. He had just been reacting up until now, dealing with every new situation as best he could, but at some point Tony was going to have to interact with someone other than Steve and then things were going to get really complicated.

A hundred questions crashed into his mind, like a dam break flooding a town; how was he going to explain Tony when he had nothing--no records, no social security number, no birth certificate. How would he get a bank account, how would he get money for that matter? How was he going to function?

Steve wasn’t opposed to the idea of caring for him. After all, he never would have abandoned him as a cat, he certainty wasn't going to abandon him as a person. In for a penny, in for a pound he figured, but Tony would certainly want more out of life at some point. The things he was capable of now where amazing, he would probably want to take over the world by the end of the week. What would happen if someone found out that he wasn’t supposed exist, what if they thought he was a spy or an alien? What if people wanted to dissect him?

Steve realised that he had been sitting in his driveway for about fifteen minutes, holding the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip, and had gone from a little late to really late.

He made himself take a breath.

Tony was fine, at least for the moment. He was home and safe and he would probably just spend the day napping, eating and being an jerk on the internet. Actually, Steve thought, he could do worse for a roommate.

\---

When Steve walked into the break room to clock in he, apologizing before he had even fully opened the door, he found an attractive young woman with long straight black hair sitting in one of the ugly plastic chairs looking at him expectantly.

“Hi,” she said brightly and raised a hand, then thought better of it and pulled it down deciding instead on an awkward smile. “Uh, I’m Jessica. And you’re Steve? Yeah. Ah, me Jessica, you Steve. No? Tarzan? Fine, never mind. Dumb joke. I do that.” She stood up and brushed her hands over a pair of blindingly bright red jeans. Steve continued to stare dumbly while his brain tried to shift gears. “I think you’re supposed to train me today? I’m new, obviously. And I guess I’m in your capable hands.” She looked him over head to toe and then gave a funny little smile, then her face fell, “You are Steve Rogers, aren’t you?”

Steve shook his head clearing the confusion, “Yes, I am, I’m sorry. I had a really weird morning.”

“Happens,” she shrugged, “they said normally you’re never late. The lady who hired me thought you might be dead, she was ready to start taking applications to replace you.”

“That sounds like Maria, she’s the assistant manager, she’s...” Steve’s grandmothers words about saying nice things or nothing at all rang through his head, “very efficient. Just stay out of her way if you can.” He frowned. “Anyway, I’m sorry I kept you waiting. It’s nice to met you Jessica.”

\---

Steve spent most of his morning showing Jessica around the store, how to use the registers and how all the merchandise was stocked. She was a nice girl, funny in a strange, often self-deprecating sort of way. She let slip that she hadn’t had the easiest of times in her life, but Steve didn’t press about it, he hardly knew her so it wasn’t his place. But she made for good company and a distraction from dull work that would have left him preoccupied with Tony when there was little he could do about the situation.

“So we have to fix the brush and pen displays all the time. They get out of order very quickly so when you’re on the floor, try to check them every so often, that way it’s not a huge job at the end of the day.” Jessica nodded and the pair stood for a moment picking out misplaced brushes and putting them in their proper homes.

“I heard you used to be in the army,” Jessica offered after a quiet lull.

“I was, just for a few years.”

“That’s funny, well god no it probably wasn’t funny at all, stupid, sorry.” Steve smiled at her reassuringly. “I just meant, most everyone else here is going to art school, I just started this semester.”

“The managers don’t. And there’s a girl here who’s in the national guard, Sharon,”

“I haven’t met her.”

“She’s nice.”

“Wow, that was a look.”

“It’s nothing, she asked me out and I said no.”

“Oh is that all? You looked like you killed her dog or something.”

“Oh my god, no.” Steve edged marginally away from her. “No, I’m just not dating right now,” Steve said and then immediately thought of earlier that morning, Tony hard against him and again his memory was a liar and made the whole thing seem a lot more inviting that he thought at the time.

“Right, gotcha,” she nodded.

Another stretch of silence.

“You know I’d never hurt an animal, or anything, right? I mean--”

“I never thought you would.” Steve gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, good. Good.” She nodded and turned her focus back to the brushes then turned back abruptly. “Sometimes I just say shit, I don’t know why, try to play it off as the quirky artist thing, most people expect a level of weird but yeah...”

“Nothing wrong with weird. Maybe you can just tell people you were raised by wolves,” Steve joked, in his own way, trying to get get a smile out of her.

“Heh, might have been better off.” Not even close to a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll fit in fine, like you said. We are all a little off here.”

“Don’t know, you seem like a steady guy.” Steve tried and failed to suppress a laugh. Jessica abandoned the brushes and turned to face him with a smile, “Not so much?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Short version? I have a friend trying to well, find his footing I guess, and it’s added a lot more weirdness to my life than I’m used to.” Saying it like that, Steve thought, it almost sounded like a reasonable, or at least plausible, situation.

“Like you just said, nothing wrong with weird.” She reached into her work apron and pulled out a note book and pen. “Here. This is my girlfriend Carol’s number,” she said as she scratched out the digits, “I met her when I was in kind of a bad way, she does social work, volunteering, she is good at, well, helping people be people. I hardly had any documents--my parents were English, it’s a whole thing-- but I almost ended up getting kicked out of the US but she helped she helped me get sorted out.”

Steve looked down blinking at the offered number and took it with a grateful nod.

“Thank you,” he couldn’t begin to believe his luck, “really, this is exactly the thing I needed.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, but if you wanna be my hero you’ll trade me shifts so I don’t have to close with Maria next week.”

Steve laughed.

“You got it.”

\---

After Steve clocked out he felt a lot better about things, he was sure there was some way to deal with someone without a past. After all, some people got amnesia and things like that, he guessed anyway. It was certainly the subject of enough fiction that it might be true, then again so were elves and giants. Either way, he would call Carol and they would find a way to get Tony worked in society.

His good mood lasted until he got out into the parking lot and saw Sharon’s car next to his, and Sharon herself just stepping out of it. He thought about popping over to the coffee shop next door until she passed but he realised he would have to talk to her eventually unless he wanted to find another job and this one was hard enough to get.

“Hi Steve.” She smiled and Steve wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he hadn’t just said yes to her when she had asked him out. Sharon was beautiful, beautiful like girls in magazines were airbrushed to be. He was an idiot.

“Hey,” he returned and watched as she leaned back against the boot of her car.

“I just wanted to say sorry about everyone giving you a hard time, I never mean for it to get around.” Beautiful and sweet. And normal. And human. Something in the fact that the last even registered as a notable trait made him worry a bit.

“It’s alright,” Steve shrugged, “people talk, can’t really help it.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t have to be so insulting. I heard what they where saying and I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with that.”

“It’s not really an insult.”

She laughed, which Steve though was odd because he wasn’t making a joke. “Well, it’s not like you’re actually...”

“Gay?” he finished helpfully as she couldn’t seem to get out the word.

“Well, you’re not.” There was the laugh again, high and nervous.

“I never said that,” he was surprised to hear himself respond.

“Oh.” She looked shocked and very put off before regrouping and putting on a cloying sort of smile that made her look a little less pretty and a lot less sweet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Steve politely dismissed himself and got into his car wondering if he had just accidentally outed himself and wondering further if he even minded at all. Either way, he was feeling a lot better about having turned down the date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this part took forever to get right, so, I'm sorry to anyone kept waiting. Was trying very hard to get the girls right for this verse and not be terribly unfair to Sharon. I'm not a fan of character bashing in fic no matter what my personal feelings about the character are, so I was trying to mind myself.
> 
> More soon! Promise! Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Cats are great givers of comfort. For all their reputation of being aloof or distant creatures, any who have known their friendship would tell of their special sense for when love and solace are needed most. The bond they forge is deeper than any outsider could know, and is probably the answer to the great mystery of why people keep the little terrors around.

Steve was in sore need of just that sort of comfort, and despite all the strangeness (both magical or otherwise) of his day, he seemed to find himself very much looking forward to coming home to someone who was waiting to be with him.

Tony had spent his day trying to pass it as he normally did, only his human body didn’t seem to sleep anywhere as well as his last one, so he found himself very awake and very bored. Looking out the widow at the birds was dull and only served to make him vaguely hungry. There was nothing of interest to chase in the quiet apartment, and his jangly mouse no longer enthralled him.

So he turned on the laptop, but soon stalking forums became only as diverting as stalking the toy mouse. So he started reading more, about anything he could find, mostly about how all the things he had taken for granted as a cat actually worked. But theory only held his attention for so long before his paws started to get itchy.

Then he found a screwdriver.

\---

 

Steve's dreams of comforting companionship went right out the window as soon as he pushed open the door.

“Tony, what the hell did you do?”

The scene he walked in on took a moment to process, simply because there was too much to take in at once. It looked like everything Steve owned had been taken apart and strewn out over the carpet and there, in the center of the destruction, was Tony.

“Hi Steve, I’m not done yet, you can come back later.” Tony waved him away, clearly focused on whatever he was prodding with his new found favourite toy.

"Not done with what? Breaking everything I own?"

"Not broken," Tony mumbled around a length of wire held between his lips

"Yes it is!" Steve was past anger now, and into pure disbelief. Hundreds, thousands of dollars of things--his laptop, the DVD player he had only just bought, even the damn toaster--all ripped open and gutted. "This is all broken now Tony!" he shouted. "Do you know what that means?"

"Do you?" Tony bit back and glared up at him. “I told you nothing is--okay the toaster is broken but I needed parts--I can put it all back together.”

“Tony, you can’t--I mean, even if you can, that’s not--” Steve’s rage was wilting and he was left with simple exhaustion. “Can you fix them?”

“Of course,” Tony waved his hand dismissively, his focus still down on the bit of wiring he was toying with, and he sounded so confident in the notion that anyone would have been hard pressed not to believe him. Steve let himself collapse on to the sofa and watched Tony working on--something, what he had no idea. The intense look in Tony eyes, as he twisted two bits of wire together then wrapped electrical tape round the join, was strangely captivating. Steve could see the intelligence there. That quiet knowing that gleamed in the eyes of all cats looked utterly breathtaking in a human.

“What are you making?” Steve asked, his curiosity finally winning out.

"Something warm," Tony answered, as though that would mean anything to Steve.

"I don't understand." Steve moved down to the floor, carefully nudging aside part of his DVD player to make space next to Tony.

"I got cold. I don't like being under the blankets so, obviously, I needed something warm."

"Obviously." Steve chuckled and leaned against Tony, who briefly lifted his head to nuzzle Steve's cheek with out pausing his hands an instant.

"I'm building a heating element to put in the body pillow, see?" Tony offered up his project proudly for Steve to look.

"That's--" _a bunch of wiring that was once my toaster_ , Steve thought, "great, Tony." Then the whole of Tony's thought process occurred to him. "Did...did you just make something that you could hug when I'm not here?"

"Uh yeah, I just said that. I was cold. You need to pay attention better." Steve frowned thoughtfully and then against his better judgment, wrapped his arms loosely around Tony and quietly watched him work

"Are you okay?” Tony asked. “I can't smell as well as before but you're being funny and squeezing me kinda hard." Steve realised he was right. Somehow the act of comforting Tony, for all that he hardly seemed to need it, had turned around and now Steve was clinging to him.

"I'm alright, just had a long day." Tony made a sympathetic noise that sounded far too close to a mewl and nuzzled Steve once more, this time with more of his heart in it. The tickle of breath that fell against Steve's neck in the process made him shiver and he couldn't find the will to pull away from it. Steve told himself he could blame the exhaustion muddling up his good sense and let himself enjoy the warm affection.

Steve didn't know how long he sat there with Tony--who had, after cuddling Steve intensely for some time, turned back to his work just leaning into the man who kept an arm around his waist--but he started to get hungry and guessed Tony would have to be too.

Steve wasn’t brilliant in the kitchen but he could manage, and having someone to cook for made him feel more like putting some effort into a meal. He thought for a moment about what he could manage to put together. "Hey you, what do you say to carbonara?"

"Um, I'd say what's a carbonara? Why, is this a trick?" Tony frowned with serious concern and Steve tried valiantly not to laugh.

"No." Steve smiled and began to pull away to stand. "It's food: pasta, cheese, bacon--"

“Oh no, food is coming soon.” Tony waved his hand dismissively.

“What?”

“I ordered food,” Tony explained

“What--how?” Steve's state of confusion was beginning to feel like a permanent condition.

“The normal way I guess. How am I supposed to know?" How did he know how to do half the things he did? Steve mind boggled for a moment, but before he could question further the door bell rang.

Steve sighed. One night of pizza wouldn't be the end of the would. He had some of his Army pay--what hadn't gone to care for his grandmother--saved away. It wasn't a lot, but he could dip into it to make up for an order of pizza or whatever Tony had called out for.

When he opened the door he blinked in confusion at the man who stood at his doorway with at least two dozen full shopping bags around him in crates, and a pad of paper in his hand.

"Steve Rogers?" The man asked pleasantly.

Steve nodded trying to work out exactly what was going on.

"Great, if you just sign here then I can start carrying all this in."

"No, that's--"

Tony appeared behind Steve wrapping his arms around his middle and standing on tip toe to look over his shoulder

"Oh good, foods here. Steve sign the thing, I'm starving."

The delivery man smiled and gave a reserved customer service appropriate laugh. Steve, now blushing as he felt Tony’s curious fingertips venturing under the hem of his shirt, quickly signed off on the delivery and insisted that, “No, it’s fine, I can take them in. Thank you.”

The delivery man gave a smile and a nod, wishing them both a good day before walking back to his van.

“Tony, stop, get off.” Steve pulled out of his hold ignoring the little whine Tony made at the loss. “Why did you, _how ___did you buy so much food?”

Tony sighed, clearly tired of having to explain himself. “All your credit card info is saved on your computer. All I had to do was try 1-9 on a website in your history and then the drop down gave me the rest.”

“Wait, you hacked my credit card number?” Tony laughed and grinned broadly at a joke only he seemed to be getting.

“No, of course not, I just read it. It was right on the screen.” Steve shook his head and started to look through the bags. Two at least appeared to be full of hot food from the deli, little plastic parcels, warm and smelling of meat and spices. Tony slipped over and plucked a roasted chicken in a little plastic dome from the bag and trotted back into the house with it.

Steve sighed and began to haul the groceries in.

Roasted chickens, racks of ribs, a whole frozen turkey and cuts of steak--that at least sort of made sense to Steve, but then he dug into the rest of the bags and found tiny jars of spices that where priced at $20 each, and cheeses with names he couldn’t even pronounce. Bag after bag, it seemed like it would never end. There were stacked layer cakes dripping with decadent fudgey chocolate, and liver pates with strange bits that made him sick to look at. And of course something in the neighborhood of ten pounds of bacon.

Once it was all put away Steve went to join Tony at the table where he sat stabbing at the chicken with a fork and pulling away large chunks which he enthusiastically devoured. Steve just looked at him for a moment. Most of the food he could freeze and the things that he couldn’t, maybe he could take in to work and share with everyone, or if it wasn’t to forward he could ask Jessica to take some home. It wouldn’t go to waste, that seemed most important, and while Steve's mind reeled at the thought of the bill, he figured at least he wouldn’t have to cook for a while.

“Tony, please ask me before you buy something from now on.” Steve wasn’t sure how much Tony comprehended money but he figured that he would start with the broad strokes.

“I tried,” Tony gestured with a chicken laden fork, his eyes tracking for a moment a rogue bit that flew off the end, “you never check your email.”

“I--” There was really no point any more. “I’ll try to do it more now, I’m just not used to having anyone needing to get in touch with me.”

“Good.” Tony pushed the plastic tray of chicken across the table in offering, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder if he was getting a treat for good behavior. Still, he was hungry and the chicken smelled good.

Tony, having had his fill, wandered off back to his projects and by the time Steve had eaten and cleaned up he found that Tony, good to his word had put most everything back to rights and he had no doubt he could do the rest.

When Steve sat down on the sofa Tony padded over to him and offered the once-more-whole laptop proudly with a grin. Steve took it and patted the space beside him. Tony fell in against Steve, cuddling his head against his shoulder and watching Steve as he would have from his former perch on the back of the sofa. He was warm and fed and happy as anyone (cat or human) could hope to be. Remarkably, Steve felt much the same.

\---

“Tony?” Steve asked after a moment when the computer booted up, “Why does everything look different?”

“Oh that? It’s Linux now, you’re welcome.”


	6. Chapter 6

Wishes are very peculiar things and every child is instructed that they should be quite careful when they make them. Steve had been like any other child in that regard, and so he stayed wary not of Tony--which might have been wiser, but Steve was far too much of a trusting soul for that--but of himself.

Because it happened that Tony was everything Steve wanted in a companion. In only two days he had burned through the dull fog Steve had been living in. He was brilliant, enlivening--and for all his difficulty with manners--understanding and sympathetic. Tony was, quite literally, everything Steve had wished for. The bespoke cure for his loneliness, an endless supply of sorely needed human affection after a lifetime of feeling at a distance from everyone around him, his years of service becoming yet another wedge between him and the rest of the world.

And Steve couldn’t help but notice that he was in serious danger of falling completely and hopelessly in love with him.

\---

Come nightfall, Steve put off going to bed as long as he could manage to try and avoid a repeat of the night before. It wasn't that he didn't trust Tony to keep his word, but with the idea of waking up and having Tony naked and pressed against him he wasn't sure he trusted himself.

Which put Steve in a horrible position for two reasons. One, Tony, while physically human (and seeming beyond in intellect) was still in many ways a cat, and Steve couldn’t help but find this a little unsettling. And two, for all Tony said that he loved Steve, it wasn’t like what Steve was beginning to feel, it couldn’t be. It was only because he was all Tony knew. Steve was aware that once Tony acclimated to human existence and no longer depended on another for care that he might want to leave and make a life for himself.

So Steve waited until Tony had curled up on the bed and began to doze before grabbing a spare blanket and trying to get comfortable on the sofa, telling himself that this was for the best. It wouldn’t do ether of them any good to confuse things any more than they already had. Steve would call Jessica’s girlfriend tomorrow and start helping Tony on his way to his independence, and things would be back to normal in no time.

Steve fought down the horrible ache in his chest and willed himself to sleep.

\---

Sleep brought restless chaotic dreams--not the sand and fire and blood to which he had become numbly accustom---but a strange land of glittering gold and iridescent light and green eyes watching from the dark.

\---

Morning came all too soon and Steve was forced to admit he was far too big to sleep comfortably on the sofa. His body ached thoroughly and he was all but unable to move.

Though the second, after opening his eyes, he discovered was mostly do to the body laying atop him; Tony had at some time in the night come out and, as best he could at his current size, curled up on Steve’s chest where he seemed to be sleeping quite comfortably. Steve, while he slept, had responded to this by wrapping his arms around Tony and holding him close.

Steve sighed as best he could for the weight on his chest, thinking he really should have expected this. He let himself enjoy the guilty pleasure of holding Tony for a little longer and then to began work on extracting himself from under the sleeping man without waking him. It took some effort, but once free Steve was able to get on with his morning while Tony slept soundly.

Steve did everything just as he would have before Tony’s transformation; he went out for a run, came home, showered and dressed and for a couple of hours everything felt normal again. It wasn’t a bad old life, Steve thought, he’d miss Tony, God he would miss Tony now, with his horrible condescending attitude and Cheshire grin and Tony before, the little ball of fluff that would purr on his stomach while he read.

Somehow the thought of just getting another kitten felt like infidelity. Steve shook his head, he had to be light-headed from the run.

Steve made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge door to start breakfast, digging out eggs and some of the fancy cheese that Tony had ordered. He gave the paper wrapped medallion a tentative sniff, not bad, Steve thought. But he still doubted that it warranted eighteen dollars a pound.

“Don’t use that, get the Grafton. Bucheron would be terrible with eggs.” Steve jumped at the voice and slammed his head on the inside of the refrigerator. Steve hissed out in pain while Tony looked on with surprise and concern.

“Wow, that sounded painful,” was probably Cat for ‘are you okay?’

Steve managed a smile for him, it wasn’t near as bad as the time Tony had gotten tangled up in his feet, the resulting fall then had given him a mild concussion; this was just a bump.

“I’m fine, I think.” Steve never did get that bell for him, too late now he guessed. “Forgot you always get up when you hear me in the kitchen.”

“You should be more careful. Here, this is the cheddar you want. Also get some of the ham. Oh and some of this--” Tony budged Steve to the side and began to hand out ingredients to him.

Steve was still apparently supposed to do most of the work but Tony stayed close by to supervise. Close for Tony meant pressed up against Steve’s back with his arms around his waist and head nestled between his shoulder blades.

“Tony do you have to hold so tight?” Steve asked after he realised that he had no intention to move, “it makes it a little hard to cook.”

“You’re doing just fine,” Tony assured him with a nuzzle.

Steve, sighed. This talk would have to come eventually.

“Thing is, now that you are human, people don’t really touch each other as much you seem to do.” Steve held his breath, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tony so he tried to tread as carefully as possible. Tony was still new to everything and Steve didn’t want Tony to think for a minute he wasn’t welcome or wanted, but he had to put some boundaries somewhere.

“Is this like the thing the other morning?” Steve could feel Tony frowning against his back

“Yes, sort of.” Steve didn’t really want this to stop, the affection, the cuddles, even the sleeping toge--next to each other, he corrected himself mentally, was all wonderful, but it wasn’t fair to Tony; they had to be on the same page or it didn’t mean anything. “I just--we’re friends, you’re my best friend, really,” Steve realised how sad that actually was as he spoke but pressed on, “but I’m the only person you’ve met and, I guess, it’s not fair, is what I’m saying. It’s not fair to you if we are more than friends before you’ve had a chance too learn more about the world, to meet more people, to--”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Exactly, the eggs are---oh damn it.” Steve quickly moved the omelet off the burner and turned off the stove.

After Steve managed to salvage most of the meal--only worse for a few brown spots--he turned back to Tony who can taken up a seat at the kitchen table to get away from the smoke and noise.

“Did you get was I was trying to tell you?” Steve set down Tony’s plate and sat across from him, “It’s not that I don’t like being with you and--well all the hugs are really nice but--”

“Yes, yes, I got it. You can stop talking.”

“Tony, I’m being serious.”

“I know.” Tony rolled his eyes and Steve was surprised at how well he was taking it, he guessed that just went to prove how shallow the affection ran.

“Okay, well, like I said, we are still friends, I’ll be there for you no matter what.” Steve gave a bittersweet smile. He hadn’t lost anything, nothing real anyway, no point in being sad about it.

“Great, so where are we going?” Steve halted his fork mid way to his mouth.

“What, I never--”

“Oh Steve, now you’re not even listening to yourself. I’m really starting to worry about you, you know. You said I need to go out and see things and meet people, right?”

“Yes,” Steve blinked. “I suppose I did but--”

“So we need to go out, that’s fine, I used to live out there, I bet it’s much easier when you are bigger, we’ll be fine. I’ll do whatever sort of thing you do when you go out then we can come home and you can show me those _other things_ you where talking about.” Tony grinned wide and then took a bite of the omelet.

He paused, scrunched up his nose and then made a face. “I don’t think I like this, maybe you should have used the Grafton.”

Tony wasn’t exactly wrong but he definitely lost something in translation. Steve blinked then, suddenly recalling the _other things_ from the discussion they had before and Steve’s cheeks began to feel hot. His gaze fell on Tony’s lips and he couldn’t seem to force them anywhere else. How long had it been scene he’d kissed anyone, he wondered.

Peggy. The day before he shipped out and a week before she went to college. They had already broken up but she insisted on seeing him off properly.

Too long.

“Tony--” Steve looked at him across the table, poking the sub-par omelet with his fork and a look of disdain. He didn’t work today. He had nothing better to do. And maybe if Tony wasn’t walking around half dressed or less in things that where nearly falling off him Steve might have a little more luck with keeping his mind out of the gutter. “Alright, we can see about getting you some clothes that actually fit you.”

“Do we have to? I’d rather get something else to eat or there was this soldering iron that--”

“No, Tony, you can’t just go around in underwear and a bed sheet.”

“I could though--”

“No. Clothes, real clothes. We’ll find you something nice, okay?”

Tony pouted, Steve gaped for a second as he looked at Tony’s bottom lip, full and flushed an inviting colour.

It was going to take a lot of luck.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve found out that just getting Tony dressed enough to take him outside was going to be tricky. He spent the rest of the morning hunting through his closet trying to find the smallest pair of pants he owned while Tony lounged on the bed tapping away on the laptop, working something he would only reveal to be ‘a project’ and when pressed, ‘one that would take too long to explain.’

Steve, after finding nothing that wouldn’t fall off Tony, started wondering if he could throw something in the dryer in hopes of shrinking it when he remembered he had a big plastic storage tub of his old things from his grandmothers house. He was pretty sure there were some clothes in there that might do the trick.

Steve hauled it out from the back of the closet and Tony, ever curious, abandoned his work to join Steve in pulling things out of the tub on the floor.

While Steve hunted for clothes, Tony started pulling things out at random. He flipped through a stack of baseball cards with brief fascination over the statistics on the backs, but abandoned them soon for an old cigar box.

The top was ornate in the way that packaging from bygone times always was, but it was more the chance of something being inside it that caught Tony’s interest.

Opening it, Tony was not disappointed. It was full of odds and ends, trinkets and pictures and letters. From the box of treasures Tony pulled out two metal chains and held them up to examine.

"Steve what are these?” He asked, tilting his head back and forth as the chain swayed lightly.

Steve turned at the question and was surprised to see two sets of dog tags dangling in front of him.

“Tony where did you get those?” Steve asked, agitated at the sight, and Tony nodded at the box on the floor in answer. Fighting down a surfeit of memory at the sight of the old box, Steve took care to make himself speak evenly. Tony hadn’t done anything wrong, he reminded himself. “Will you please give that back to me? It's private."

Tony frowned but offered the box back to Steve and, after a moment of hesitation, handed the chains back as well.

“Will you at least tell me what it is?” Tony asked.

“They’re dog tags.” Steve answered distractedly, staring at the cold weight in his hand.

Tony made a small noise and looked disquieted. Steve couldn't help a small smile. "They give them to you when you join the Army," he explained and Tony was put back at his ease. 

"And you did that?” Tony’s eyes where still fixed on the contents of Steve hand.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?” is the biggest question that can be asked in the fewest letters, but Steve remembered his reasons in the beginning.

“Because my grandfather did. He was a good and brave man and I wanted to be like him.” It seemed so simple putting it like that, noble even.

Tony looked like he was sitting on at least a hundred questions so Steve held up one of the chains. "This one was my grandfather's," he said and replaced it back into the box, "and this is mine," he held out the second chain to Tony who held out his own cupped hand to receive it. Steve lowered the chain to let it pool in the offered palm.

For a time, Tony examined the tags with intense fascination, as though he could read more than what was pressed into the metal if he simply looked hard enough.

"I think you're good," Tony said resolutely, looking up at Steve after finishing whatever analysis he conducted. Steve felt his chest get tight and laughed so as not to cry.

"Thank you, Tony," he managed, unable to further express how badly he’d needed to hear those words, and from someone he could believe. He couldn’t say he was even aware of the need at all until just after having it sated.

Tony seemed to understand in the silent way that cats do and handed the dog tags back without comment.

A thought occurred to Steve and he was once again acting before he could think better of it. “Here,” he said and wide blue eyes watched Steve’s hands as he held them out to loop the chain around Tony’s neck. “Why don’t you hold on to them.”

It was practical, Steve told himself, nothing more. They would be going out and if anything happened, if they were separated--well, Tony’s knowledge was vast but spotty, and there was no way of telling if he could manage to get back home by himself. At least the tags would give anyone who might find Tony a start to finding his--family, Steve supposed would be the best word.

Tony looked down at the tags and gave them a tentative bat with his fingers. Nodded, then smiled up at Steve.

“I like them,” Tony decided.

“Good, I like you,” came out of Steve’s mouth before he realised what he was saying. Steve reddened as he went back to digging through the bin.

Tony simply smiled, self-satisfied as ever.

 

\---

Steve managed to find an old pair of jeans and a sweater that would work for Tony, the last remains of a time before Steve's last growth spurt put him over six feet tall. After Tony pulled them on he presented himself to Steve for approval with arms spread and a hopeful, "Well?"

He looked good, he look like a normal guy. More than that, with his keen eyes and overpowering charm, Steve could picture Tony sitting at a table in a coffee shop tapping away something important on the latest model tablet. Steve could picture Tony being someone people would be nervous to talk to, someone who made girls blush and guys laugh.

Three days ago Tony had thrown up grass in the kitchen and Steve had to clean it up.

This was all just a lot to deal with.

"That should do,” Steve finally answered and Tony frowned at the lack of excited praise.

“Well, I think I look stupid,” Tony pulled at the hem of the jumper, “ I think this whole clothing thing is over rated. People look much better naked, you certainly do.”

Steve really hated how little it took to get him flustered.

“That’s not really the point Tony.” Steve tried to will himself to be less red. “Anyway you have to keep warm, I don’t need you getting sick.”

Tony seemed to accept the logic of that at least and followed Steve to the car, slipping a pair of over-sized flops on at Steve’s behest before heading out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

The drive downtown was about twenty minutes of Tony fiddling with the radio and Steve being grateful he had banned him from bringing his screwdriver. Steve didn’t have too much occasion to go downtown. His life flowed through a fairly steady routine of home-work-sometimes grocery store-home, so he was a little more excited to be out on the town than he would like to admit. More than Tony, at least, who had simply stepped out of the car, gave the city a cursory glance and shrugged before slipping the sunglasses he’d found in the glove compartment over his eyes.

“Okay Tony,” Steve turned to him after feeding the meter, “until you get used to things I want you to stay with me and not run off, all right?”

Tony smirked and and raised an eyebrow over the top of the sunglasses. “Don't worry, I won't leave you alone.” Tony hooked his arm in Steve’s and grinned up at him. Steve just shook his head and led him along the street. Better a few stares than Tony getting lost.

Tony babbled at Steve’s side about nothing and everything. The man’s technical knowledge had completely out strode Steve’s own and he couldn’t hope to follow half of it, but Tony would occasionally come out with something sweetly naive, questioning the meaning of all the traffic lights and signs, or asking with amazement how a street corner violinist was making that amazing sound. Steve smiled the whole time.

Nearing their goal, the streets became more crowded and Tony pushed in closer than before. Steve worried that he was getting agitated by the brush of strangers and the noise so stopped to ask if he was all right to which Tony just blinked behind his sunglasses. “Of course I’m all right. Are _you_?” He patted Steve’s arm with his free hand.

“I’m fine, Tony. Just worried about you. Big crowds. Lots of noise. It can be overwhelming.”

“Are you kidding?” Tony laughed. “This is all great and look at me, I’m huge now so no one can step on me,” then tilted his head slightly, “but we can take a minute, you know, for me if you want.”

“Maybe just a minute?” Tony nodded and they stepped out of the way of foot traffic while Steve got his bearings.

Standing there, paused in the street as people walked passed them, Steve caught their reflection in a shop window and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of them; Tony on his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world and the little hint of the chain around Tony’s neck before it disappeared under the neck of his sweater.

Tony looked up and followed Steve's gaze to their image in the glass. Their eyes met in the reflection and Steve would have given anything he owned to know what Tony was thinking.

"I really do look better without clothes,” Tony answered without being asked. Steve sighed, he should have guessed as much, he started to turn away but Tony kept talking. “We still look very good, it would just be better if there were less clothes. Also a bed.”

“Oh,” Steve said intelligently, then forced himself to stop that train of thought. “Tony--” he warned but Tony just reached up to press his nose against his cheek.

“I know. I know,” Tony breathed out in a chuckle. “I’ll be good.” All it would take was an inch of a turn and Steve would be kissing that sweetly smirking mouth, Steve thought and his breath caught in his throat. Steve couldn’t pretend not to want to, but he could at least not give in on busy street corner. He pulled away. Just because he was losing the war didn’t mean the surrender wasn’t going to be on his terms.

“Come on, Tony let's get going." Tony sighed but went along without protest.

\---

It was a few blocks walk to the charity shop, which was, to Steve's credit actually one of the nicer ones downtown. It was clean and well lit and the little old lady at the counter smiled sweetly behind her reading glasses when the pair of them entered. Steve honestly considered this the best store in town.

“It smells funny in here,” Tony declared loudly and Steve cringed as the woman behind the register looked up with a frown. She brightened on seeing Steve however, who made a sheepish apology for his companion

“I'm sorry, ma’am. He didn’t mean anything by it.” Tony opened his mouth to insist that he mean just what he said, but Steve shot him a look that made him snap it right shut again.

“Don’t worry dear, it’s the moth balls. I hardly even smell them any more but they can be a bit strong I think.”

“I think it’s nice.” Steve smiled at her and she giggled like she might have some sixty years ago.

“Of course you do, such a dear boy. I need to go in the back for a bit, you boys just shout if you need anything.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Steve answered and she shuffled herself out murmuring something about ‘sweet young man,’ and ‘so nice he’s got a friend’ to herself

Steve’s grandmother had been bringing him here for as long as he could remember. Money was never abundant, but they were always able to get what he needed, and Steve was always grateful for what he had. The place was full of memories of happy times.

Tony was significantly less impressed with the establishment. While Steve had been chatting, he’d picked through the racks with quick fingers and found the selection wanting. Looking around the cramped and musty little store he frowned, and then turned to look out the front window at a store across the street with crisp suits lined up like soldiers in the window.

“Steve, can’t we go over there? It looks much nicer.” Tony smiled hopefully, as sweetly as he could.

Steve looked over at the designer store across the way with is gold scrolling logo on the window and elaborate displays.

“I can’t afford the clothes over there,” he said simply without any shame, because he couldn’t but, really, who could these days?

“Oh, you could though--” Tony started excitedly but Steve shook his head.

“No Tony, I’m sorry. This is what I can manage. I’m happy to give it to you and if you get a job then you can spend your money however you like, but right now this is it.”

“But I--”

“No.”

Tony flopped down to sit on the floor with a last longing sigh.

\---

The sulk only lasted a few moments and Tony didn’t take much prodding to start looking through the racks again with a more careful eye. Steve sat back and let Tony do as he would. He seemed to know what it was he was looking for and Steve was happy to sit and have a quite cup of tea with the store’s owner, who had lots of pictures of her nephew’s new baby she was more than happy to show Steve.

“Oh, there is nothing in the world like having children in your home, Steven,” She gushed over the set of old china she had brought out, “They are the light of my life.” Steve gave a polite smile and nod. “You know,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, ”you two are both still young, there is plenty of time for you to adopt.”

Steve looked at her in abject confusion for a solid ten seconds before his eyes went wide and he knocked over his tea cup.

“I, no, it’s not, me and Tony are--” Steve sputtered as he fumbled about trying to clean up the spill. “It’s really, well complected and--” the elderly woman placed a thin frail hand on Steve's arm.

“Hush dear. It’s perfectly fine. I think you two make a lovely couple and there is no need to be shy about it. Now you go see how your little boyfriend is getting on and I’ll clean this up,” Steve gaped for a moment and then nodded dumbly before walking off towards the dressing rooms.

 

\---

An overflowing cart full of clothes later:

“Purple, really?”

“It’s lilac.”

“How do you know that?”

Tony only shrugged and turned to look at himself in the mirror again. He hummed, clearly pleased down to his newly-found trainers. Steve had to admit, the suit looked good.

\---

“I like being out.” Tony announced happily as he tapped away on Steve’s phone with a little smile on his face. “And I don’t mind these clothes as much as the other ones.”

“Good.” Steve trailed a step or two behind, laden down with enough bags to feel like a caricature of the boyfriend brought along shopping. It afforded him a nice enough view though, the arch of Tony’s back was enhanced by the cut of his suit jacket and the feline way in which he cared himself was beginning to feel more like of a promise of something to come than a reminder of what he had been. “I have work tomorrow but we can go to the park when I get home if you like.”

“Sure, can I bring the laptop? Your phone is really slow.” Steve frowned, so much for hiking or teaching him to play basketball.

“I don’t think you can get internet in the park, Tony.”

“Are there things to buy? I like doing that.”

“Not really--Well, food carts?”

“Food is good. You can buy me park food.” High maintenance was not a term Steve often used to describe people, but it was feeling pretty accurate at the moment.

They got to the car before Steve could think of a way to explain the joy of being out in nature to Tony--later on he’d think better of trying to sell this notion to a creature that spent the first two years of its life out side in the often cold, wet and dangerous outdoors--and Steve quietly packed the bags into the trunk.

“Steve! Hey!” Steve looked up at the sound of an an excited female voice shouting his name and found two girls across the street staring at him, one of whom he could recognize in an instant from the long black hair and bright red jeans.

“Hey Jess!” Steve shouted across the way and Steve watched as his workmate turned to the beautiful blond woman at her side and gave a grin, touching her arm and pointing at him and then Tony. That would have to be Carol, he thought and smiled at her across the barrier of passing cars.

“Who are they?” Tony slid his arm in Steve’s and rested his head on his shoulder as he watched the girls as they seemed to get into a small argument over whether they should go to the cross walk or just dash across the street, Carol final winning and dragging Jessica the long way around.

“Jessica is my friend from work and Carol is her girlfriend,” Steve explained.

“They’re pretty.” Tony commented with a little grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tony blinked and looked up at him over his sun glasses, “not as pretty as you, though.”

“Oh,” Steve looked at his shoes, “I. Um, thank you.”

“Hi!” Tony said brightly when the girls approached, “I’m Tony, Steve and I were just talking about how very pretty you both are. Weren’t we? Oh no, he's got all red again, don’t worry though, he’s fine, it just takes him a minute to work through it. We should all get something to eat, don’t you think?”

Charmed wasn’t even the half of it.

\---

A little bit later Steve regained the ability to speak, introductions were made. They got an outdoor table at a little café and pastries all around.

Steve and Carol struck a instant cord. She was warm and friendly and he could see that she was very well suited to Jessica; she had a stability to her that anchored the other girl, and was genuinely passionate about her near endless list of causes and charity cases.

And she was happy to talk over Tony’s situation without prying into anything that would be awkward. She had lots of useful info on how he might get himself started on getting a life together and told Steve he was a very good man for helping him.

“It's nothing really,” he assured her. “Tony is, well, he’s not like anyone else, you know. It’s not like I feel I have to do it. I want him with me. I mean--”

Carol smiled and looked over at Jessica. “Trust me, I understand completely.”

Jessica and Tony meanwhile discussed with great fervour the cultural importance of lol-cats and played Bacon Bacon Panic on her phone.

“Damn you, you son of a bitch, you beat my high score,” Jess grumbled as Tony replaced her initials in the ranking with his own.

Tony just grinned. “You can’t be mad at me just because I’m better than you, it’s hardly my fault.”

“Fuck that, I just downloaded it a couple hours ago, give it here.” She wrenched her phone back and Tony rested his head on her shoulder to watch her play.

“No, no, you have to get the diagonals or the bacon will burn.” He pawed at the phone and she batted him away.

“Shut up, I know what I’m-- oh that was so cheap. I hate this game.”

“See, I told you.”

Steve and Carol shared a look of profound sympathy for each other and then got up to pay the bill.


	9. Chapter 9

The common convention is that it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Some would say that the same is true of all good things that touch a person's life. Of fortune or joy or friendship. That no matter how much it hurts to have lost a thing that you treasured, knowing happiness is worth the pain.

Some would be less inclined to agree.

Steve was always a good man, despite his more recent doubts, a kind and gentle soul at heart. The violence that he committed in his life was something that he always felt was justified in. That he was part of a balance, a sacrifice being made for the overall betterment of the world; keeping people safe, freeing them from oppression. And Steve always felt that the people holding the guns should be the ones that get the least joy from shooting them.

Steve found a family with people who felt the same in the Army. The men and women he fought with were brave and clever and he loved them as much as he loved his blood family.

That shining moment of knowing he belonged somewhere, that he was right and doing good alongside people he trusted and respected, made every moment after feel dull and grey in comparison.

Until now.

\---

Pulling into the driveway, Tony buzzing excitedly beside him talking fast and gesturing with quick motions of his hands, Steve couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face. But there was still something dark and hard in his gut worming its way up into the golden warmth of his contentment and tarnishing where it touched.

Tony had no such problem, he drifted in and out of orbit, always touching, with a brush of hand or leg, but always keeping some sort of contact as Steve unloaded the car and came inside to dump the bags on the bed.

While Steve rearranged his closet and dresser to make room for Tony's new things. Tony, who had been instructed to fold and hang, had curled up to lay on the pile of bags while he tapped at Steve's phone.

When Steve had finished he turned around to find Tony dozing on the pile of shopping.

He sighed and made his way to the bed. "Long day, buddy?" Steve sat beside his friend and petted his head and back. Tony smiled groggily and hmmed an agreement as he nuzzled against Steve's hand.

"I'm awake," Tony mumbled into an open palm and then gave a soft lick, "just resting my eyes."

A little shudder went up Steve's arm and right down his spine as Tony lapped and bit lightly at his palm and then down at his wrist. He moved his hand away, out of Tony’s reach and went back to stroking Tony’s back as he tried to calm himself.

Tony, undeterred in his pursuit of affection, flopped over to bear his stomach, the bags crunching noisily under him as he did. Steve quickly got the hint and began rubbing his belly. Grinning, Tony budged up to lay his head on Steve's thigh.

“You’re still going to have the hang the clothes up, you know.” Steve smiled fondly down at his blissfully happy friend who had turned to pudding under his hand.

“Can’t you do it?” Tony could only manage to whine half heartedly.

“I could, not going to. You have to do some things for yourself, part of the trade off for having thumbs, gotta use ‘em.”

“Heh, that was actually funny.”

“Yeah, well, I think you might bring out the best in me.”

There was a long stretch of comfortable silence and then:

“Steve who are the people in the picture?” And Steve didn’t need to ask what picture Tony was talking about. It was sitting there in the old cigar box, right on top. Tony would have seen it, Steve had just assumed Tony didn’t find it interesting enough to comment on. He wished he had been right.

Steve pulled away and Tony frowned, wondering how his simple question has dispelled all the warmth from the room.

“They were my friends.” Steve sat stiffly up and stared into dark corners of his memory.

Tony sat up leaning in towards Steve, but holding back his touch; had he his old ears they would’ve been pricking at the tension radiating off the other man.

“Where did they go?” Tony asked cautiously, aware he was treading into something dangerous but uncertain of the nature.

“Just away. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re lying and you’re bad at it.” He wasn’t accusing, not judging, just stating the obvious fact.

“Yeah, I am. It matters. It matters a lot.”

“Tell me about them,” Tony asked tilting his head so his cheek just brushed Steve’s shoulder and Steve went boneless, as though a circuit had been completed and all the energy rushed out of him. Tony nuzzled in to take Steve’s weight and slowly one horrible word at a time, for the first time, Steve told someone why he was alone.

“They died, we all--they-- they all died.” The mission had been a disaster from the start and he had known it. He should have been on point, he could have handled it, reacted faster to the fire that came out of nowhere. In the end the specifics didn't matter. Steve had been over it time and again in his head. All the little things that he could have done that would have meant that one, two, all of them would have made it through the night. It all came down to the same thing: “I was the only one who made it home.”

Arms wrapped around Steve and not a word was spoken between them until Steve fell shaking and coughing against Tony, burying his face in the crook of his dear friend’s neck.

"I miss them, everyday I wish that it had been me instead," he confessed between dry sobs, Tony simply held Steve, rubbing the man’s broad back with a firm, sure hand and letting him pour out that which he had held in for too long. "I'm a coward. My grandfather would be ashamed.”

"Oh Steve, it’s not like that, it’s not your fault. You are good, you’re so good and kind and I know you don't think I understand what it means but I do love you, I love you so much Steve,” Tony pleaded, distressed to a panic by Steve’s state.

"Tony--"

"No, no, it’s--this is so stupid, talking like this with so many words and none of them being the right ones but--I know, I know it doesn't make it better but it makes it--different, you still hurt but you’re not doing it alone.”

“Tony.”

“I’m not saying it right, I still can’t--”

And then Steve was kissing him.

It was actually horrible at first, with Tony still trying to finish what he was saying long past when anyone else would have realized they ought to stop. Then, once he finally got what was going on, his attempt at participation only made things worse; trying to nuzzle at Steve's cheek and mouth more than actually kiss. But eventually, with Steve's hands on the side of his face steadying him, he slowed and just enjoyed the soft press of lips and then began to lick at Steve’s lips and into his mouth.

As soon as Tony felt he was on sure footing, it was all Steve could do to stay upright against Tony surging at him with wet eager kisses and pawing hands. He finally had to pull away for breath and, impossibly, found himself smiling.

“How do you do that?”

“With my tongue?” Tony asked in all seriousness.

Steve laughed, still a little breathless, “No, just-- make everything better?”

“Don’t know, I thought you were doing it.”

Bags crunched under him as Steve let Tony push him back down onto the bed, shifting and shoving them off the side while Tony straddled Steve like a mountain being climbed and claimed.

“Want you.” Tony’s eyes were dark as he looked down at Steve through thick lashes. “Want you now,” he demanded in a way that sounded far more dangerous than petulant. Steve just barely remembered to breathe.

“I want-- I want you too. I didn’t think--”

“Don’t think. Give me your mouth again.” Tony twisted his hand into Steve’s shirt, kneading it eagerly. Another long licking kiss left Steve heady, breathless and robbed of his will to think better of this.

“Okay,” he touched his forehead to Tony’s and closed his eyes while he sucked in air through his teeth.

Tony grinned and sat perfectly still for so long Steve tough for a moment that he might have changed his mind but then something glinted in Tony's wide wild eyes and he pounced. Tongue and teeth were everywhere on Steve's body and any last lingering shred of melancholy, along with anything resembling rational thought, were quickly dispelled.

Steve placed his hands on Tony’s hips, holding on for dear life. His shirt had gone at some point, and it was only as Tony’s clever tongue was tracing lines of muscle on his stomach that Steve became aware he was making some of the most undignified sounds he had ever heard. 

"Tony--" Fingertips traced Steve's hipbones and he couldn’t be bothered to wonder where his pants had gone.

"Tony--" Steve gasped as he felt Tony nuzzle in at the join of leg and torso, Tony's cheek just brushing steve's almost painfully hard cock.

"Tony--" Steve gripped Tony’s shoulders hard as a soft tongue swiped up from base to tip and Tony grinned up at him.

"What?"

"Where did you learn that?"

"Didn't, just guessing really. A little basic logic, it's good though, yeah?" Tony smiled with the head of Steve's cock resting lightly on his lips and took the lack of coherent answer as a yes.

Tony's tongue dipped lower and Steve certainly didn't squeak because that would have been even more embarrassing than having Tony nestled contently between his legs licking at any and all available skin with specific preference for any spot that made Steve yelp and squirm.

"There's-- you can-- do you want me to--"

Tony stopped and looked up quizzically waiting for the rest of the sentence.

“Just come ‘ere.” Steve pulled Tony up, wrapped a strong hand around Tony’s cock and instructed Tony to do the same to him. A few sure strokes had Tony melted against Steve’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and purring for more. Soon the pair of them were murmuring nonsense as they executed fumbling unpractised touches and calling out the others name as they came, Steve first and Tony just on his heels.

\---

“Messy.” Tony commented, breaking the quiet of the room.

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, “It is, isn’t?”

“Good though.”

“Glad you think so, are you going to throw a fit if I suggest a shower?”

“Nah,” Tony yawned and stretched in a manner that made Steve start considering round two in a serious way, “we could do it together,” Tony suggested.

Steve smiled, “great idea.”

“Yeah, I’m good for those.”


	10. Chapter 10

Steve never did anything by half measures, so when he finally gave in to feelings for Tony, he did it fully and without reservation. And he continued to give in; in the shower, up against the kitchen counter, and then again on the bed, until it got very late (or very early, depending how you looked at it) and both men were happy to wrap arms around one another and sleep through to morning.

Steve woke first, his arms (cramped and numb and) still around Tony who he held to his chest. Tony had his head tucked under Steve’s chin and was nuzzling Steve’s collar bone in his sleep. Steve chuckled quietly and placed a kiss in Tony’s messy hair.

“Good morning.”

“Not morning till breakfast,” Tony grumbled, possibly still asleep, as he shifted a little and began to half heartedly chew on Steve’s shoulder.

“Hey, knock that off.”

“Mhwo” was apparently ‘no’ with a mouthful of shoulder.

Steve rolled his eyes and gently pushed Tony away, onto his back, where he looked up, more awake now but still bleary eyed. Tony yawned and offered a soft:

“Hi, I love you, make bacon,” which ran together like it was one thought. Knowing Tony, it probably was.

“We talked about ‘please’.” Steve reminded him.

“Too early for that. Forget food, love me,” Tony demanded and curled his arms around Steve’s neck.

Maybe it was just because he was still half asleep himself, but something about the statement struck Steve as endearing enough that he could be bothered and try to correct him again.

He dipped his head down and kissed Tony. A slow lazy press of mouths that opened into a slow and lazy swiping of tongues. Everything was all warm and fuzzy at the edges as he slipped in and out of wakefulness, slow hands and soft lips working to alternately lull him back to sleep and then pull him back into the real world.

When Steve had imagined Heaven he thought it might be something like this; like being wrapped up in a cloud of tangible bliss. This felt more like magic that the idea of Tony having not been human four days ago.

\--

But magic always comes at a price, it is a basic truth of the universe.

\--

The alarm sounded too soon, dragging Steve back down to earth and he dutifully untangled himself from Tony so he could start getting ready for work. In the shower by himself, he couldn’t stop smiling, just thinking about Tony still curled up, warm and cozy, on his bed. The idea of Tony always being there. Of not having to be alone, of having someone to care for, someone who cared for him.

Steve couldn’t wait for the rest of their lives.

Tony pulled a tee shirt and some almost indecently tight jeans from the pile of bags that still lay where they had fallen last night while Steve dressed, watching Tony stuff himself into the pants behind him in a mirror. He laughed. "I told you those were a bad idea,”

Tony just grunted determinedly as he tugged them up enough to button them. "I like how you look at me when I'm in them.”

Steve turned and walked over to Tony, he put his hands on his waist and pulled him in possessively.

"Yeah, just like that, " Tony grinned.

Steve wondered if he would be able to stop kissing him if he started, he couldn’t skip work-- maybe he could be a little late though... No, he had to be responsible, now more than ever. He had Tony to take care of now. So Steve just wrapped arms around Tony and kissed the top of his head.

"You just keep those on for when I get home." Tony pulled away and looked at him with a quizzical pout.

"You really don't have to go to work you know," Tony raised an eyebrow as Steve just sighed and ruffled his hair.

"We went over this, and I know you’re smart enough to get it. I don't want to go at all but I need to take care of you and I can't do that without a job. " Tony frowned in consideration for a moment and then nuzzled Steve's cheek and stepped away from him.

"Alright, but you'll be back soon?"

"Before you know it."

"Okay, I guess you can go to work."

"Thank you Tony, you're so kind," Steve smiled wryly and Tony shrugged and pulled out the laptop.

\---

When Steve left for work, lingering far too long in the doorway for last minute kisses, he had asked Tony not to take anything else apart. He promised that once he got paid they could go to a junk shop and get Tony a box of things to play with.

Tony thought the notion was very sweet. He wasn’t certain what a junk shop was but he could guess from the sound of it that Steve wasn’t really understanding the scope of his plans at this point because they didn’t end at taking apart toasters. He’d only been at this whole humanity thing for a few days, but he thought it was pretty clear that the greatest crises they faced as a people was short battery life. The rate at which both Steve’s phone and laptop died out was just completely unacceptable, and Tony was of a firm mind to do something about it.

A few hours later he had discovered channels through which he could probably obtain a good sized chunk of palladium. His fingers itched, the credit card number was right there but he thought that this was probably one of those things Steve would want to be asked about.

He watched The Aristocats on Netflix instead.

\---

What happened was not Tony’s fault in any way. But it would have been completely reasonable for anyone to assume that it was. Tony was messing around with dangerous electronics with no real sort of training. It would be a pretty safe assumption that something would go wrong for him sooner rather than later, but that wasn’t what happened.

And it’s true that many buildings have faulty wiring, electricians are only human and so are the inspectors whose job it is to check these things. Humans are imperfect and make mistakes every single day.

But none did in this case.

The spark that caught the pile of newspapers, set aside in a neat pile for recycling, was conjured of something more malicious that carelessness.

\---

Tony awoke to a piercing and unnatural screeching that filled the apartment, it was so oppressively loud that the air felt thick with it. Not only did it make Tony’s ears ache but made him dizzy for the pressure on his ears.

He had fallen asleep in the middle of the film, curled up on the sofa one moment and now-- Panic and pure animal instinct, flooded through him, adrenalin and confusion saturating his mind until there was room for nothing else. He was only peripherally aware of the heat or the thick smoke that was starting to choke him. Tony was terrified, he felt ill, his muscles all tensed and the only thought present was: I have to run.

When he burst out of the front door he didn’t stop to look behind him at the black clouds of billowing smoke and licks of orange flame that poured from the kitchen wind.

Fear is an all consuming thing, it is in and of itself a sort of fire that burns through reason in the most calm and practical of human beings. Tony was not by any stretch of the imagination the most calm or practical of human beings. So Tony obeyed his animal instinct without question and ran into the streets of Steve's suburban neighborhood.

He tore down the road without thought to directions outside of away from danger but a deep underlying instinct guided him. The sky was going orange and pink, bleeding with the colors of sunset but it looked to Tony, out of the corner of his eye, as though flames still chased him. Panic made him press on through exhaustion, even as he collided with someone on the street. They tried to stop him, to calm him, and the voice sounded familiar but Tony would have none of it. Regaining, his balance he brushed past them and took off again for what was once a safe place.

 

It was only a burning in his lungs and cramping and his legs that made him finally stop and think about what happened. He understood vaguely what fire was, it was dangerous, it could hurt you and Steve was very concerned about it in regards to Tony and the microwave. But he hadn't even been anywhere near the kitchen. He had been fast asleep and now Tony was left to wonder what had caused everything to go so horribly wrong.

No longer running but with nowhere to go back to, Tony continue to walk through a park that used to be familiar from a much lower vantage point. ‘Maybe it wasn't as bad as you thought,’ Tony told himself hopefully kicking a rock in the grass. Or maybe it was far, far worse. He simply had no way of knowing.

He felt stupid now for how he reacted, embarrassed and annoyed he hadn’t used his head. He hadn't even thought to grab the laptop and Steve had the phone so now Tony was out here without any way to contact him.

He walked on, out of the open short grass and into the thick trees that rain into wilderness beyond. This was a place that used to be home to him but now it felt dark and foreign. Bushes he could have darted under now blocked his path and made him stumble, he was hungry and while he could hear little creatures running about under to brush he doubted he would be quick enough to catch one and he would much rather have a bacon sandwich anyway.

His fingers itched for something to do, some way to fix everything.

He missed Steve's phone.

He missed Steve.

Tony flopped down onto the grass and whimpered softly to himself, just wishing someone would tell him what to do.

“It’s about time, feline.” A boy dropped down nimbly from a tree branch smiling, not with threat, but with promise, which was far more worrying.

“Who are you?” Tony demanded, jumping up to stand and take cautious steps back, his eyes wide in the dark.

“I think you know. Most of your kind do know me. I’m a patron of sorts. Not in any official capacity, but I’ve always had a fondness.” The boy looked around idly, examined his hand and then turned his attention back on to Tony. The boy’s manner was easy, there was nothing of worry or uncertainty about him, and that more than anything spoke to his power.

Tony stopped his slow retreat and stood straight and still, looking down at the child god of mischief and illusion.

“You’re the one who made me human.” Tony tilted his head at the young man in green and gold.

“Very clever, feline. And to think your father almost ate you, but fathers can be cruel, unfathomably so. Imagine if you had been some dull simple kitten instead. How boring it might have been? But no, you are special. It’s made for a most amusing story, but the fairytale is over now.”

“I don’t want to turn back. I like how I am now.” Standing up straight Tony had a clear advantage in height over his creator but he wasn't foolish enough to think that it meant anything about who was in control. But there is a saying that a cat may look at a queen, and in a similar vein they may speak plainly to gods.

“No, ‘thank you, Master’?” The young man frowned. “Hmm, felines these days.” Then he heaved his shoulders back in a shrug. "You don't have to turn back, you get a choice. I'm not cruel, at least I don't think so. I might have been, but I only want to do as you wished.”

“What I wished?”

“I’ll tell you what to do, or, I’ll tell you what you could do. What would lead you to folly and where you might find happiness.” Tony said nothing, choosing to watch and listen carefully, he could smell a trick but he didn’t know where it lay nor the form of it.

“The transformation between man and beast is not a very taxing bit of magic and is not anything most in the higher realms would be impressed with,” The boy explained, “But it is useful. A beast is always more loyal and trustworthy than a human and they make the best servants and soldiers, but few ever think what might be gained from the transformation from the lower to the higher.”

Tony didn’t like where this was going in the slightest.

“To have the spirit of a beast in a human, mind so keen once caged in a limiting vessel focused only on survival, allowed space to grow and expand to make the most of itself, that would be something truly wonderful. Something powerful, do you understand?”

He did too well.

“I want to stay with Steve.”

The boy raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips.

“I don’t think you know what I am offering. Your perspective is wholly unique, you do not think like any other creature. You are unlike any other being in any of the nine realms, your mind combined with my power would be a formidable force to be reckoned with. I will have you fight for me, but you shall have anything you wish in return. If it is companionship you require it can be arranged, I could have a host of--”

“No,” Tony narrowed his eyes, “you don’t understand. I don’t care about any of that, I want to stay with Steve.”

The boy took a slow breath and turned sympathetic eyes on Tony.

“Silly kitten, what makes you think after all you did he would want you anymore?”

\---

 

“It’s only a few lights past yours, thanks again for the ride, Steve. You really are a sweetheart.” Sharon smiled her best at Steve from the passenger seat.

“No problem, I could hardly leave you stranded.”

“Not anyone would have done it, you really are a gentleman.” While Steve was watching the light she leaned in and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

“Um, Sharon I’m--” a car horn sounded behind him and Steve snapped his focus back onto the road and to getting her out of his car before she got any other ideas.

They drove on, Steve in silence and his passenger filling up the car with idle work gossip. Steve mostly just nodded along.

“--and that Jessica girl, well, I mean I wouldn’t say anything really, I volunteer at a shelter after all, but people are never really the same after they been on the streets for that long. Not that I don’t like her but... Well we have a lot of kids that come in the store you know? And you just have to wonder about how safe it is.”

At that, Steve was finally about to open his mouth but something distracted him; he could hear sirens in the distance and as he neared his street he could see smoke and a fire truck parked in the driveway.

“Oh my God, is that your--”

“Tony.”

“What?”

But Steve had already slammed the brakes and shot out of the car.

Steve ran towards the building, so focused and determined to get to Tony and make sure he was okay that he couldn’t comprehend the force holding him back until he heard the voice commanding him.

“Sir, you can’t go in there, sir, please stop.” There was a fireman holding him back, had he not been larger than Steve he might have been able to fight through before he thought better of it but as it was he was halted in his tracks.

“No I have to, Tony is in there,” Steve pleaded with the man, knowing it was useless but having to try.

“Stay clear and let the professionals do their job. I promise you if anyone is in there they will help them.” Steve wrenched himself out of the fireman’s hold indignantly, if the man took any offence he didn’t voice it, stepping back but hovering near should Steve try to bolt again.

Tony was smart, Steve assured himself as he watched more black smoke bloom from his kitchen window, he would have gotten out, unless he was hurt or--no, he couldn’t think like that. The ambulance was empty and the fire was mostly out Steve shut his eyes and tried to take a deep breath but only pulled in smoke.

At least to choking gave him something to hide the sob under. He couldn’t lose everything, Not again.

 

\---

 

“But I haven’t done anything wrong. I--” Tony faltered, “I ran but...”

“Why would you think that would matter?” A strange feeling came over Tony, something unfamiliar and very unpleasant that seemed to coil around him and make him unable to speak. There was the smile again, sympathy laced with arsenic. Tony had no explanation, no reason he could give Steve for why everything he had worked for was now in ashes. No reason why Tony wasn’t able to stop it. He should have been able to, he should be clever enough to fix anything.

“He wouldn’t--”

“Yes, but do you know for certain? Because I must to tell you, it’s only fair that I do, that if you return to him and he doesn’t want you, Tony, you have to go back.”

“Why? Why does it--”

“It was his wish, granted on his behalf, if he is done with you or so cross with you that he doesn’t want you anymore it all comes undone. Magic’s a queer thing, structures built on structures, if you pull the foundation out---” The boy mimed a crash and explosion with his hands.

“He loves me.” Tony hated how uncertain his voice sounded.

“Humans are fickle.” The boy twisted his fingers and the air rippled above it. Tony blinked and stood in wonder as the image came into focus and then watched in quiet anguish. There was Steve, looking tired and lost, eyes wet and smoke all around him. Tony wanted to take off running for home right then and there, but he waited as he saw a girl, slim, blond and pretty slide in next to him like she belonged there and put her small hand on his arm.

“I don’t--”

“Stay with me Tony, let the humans have their little lives, you are meant for so much more.”

Tony swallowed, he stared at the image, at Steve. He closed his eyes.

“No.”

For the first time the fathomless green eyes flashed. The boy schooled his face instantly.

“Throwing your life away is a very foolish thing to do, do you want to live as you were? As a pet, a low base thing with no freedom and no voice? Do you really want to watch as that girl replaces you in his heart and you can only hiss and mewl in protest?”

Tony clutched the tags around his neck.

\---

“Steve!” a voice called to him from behind and Steve pulled out of his daze. “Steve thank god you’re okay!”

Jessica came running up and crashed into him with an enormous hug, Carol coming in after her hugging Steve from the other side.

Before Steve could ask what they were doing here, Carol spoke, “We saw Tony, he’s okay but really shaken up.” Steve warped his arms around the woman and choked out and sob of joy into her shoulder. He was safe.

“Where?”

“He ran into us, on the way to the park. We couldn’t calm him down to stop him, I don’t know if it was a PTSD attack or--”

“Thank you Carol, thank you so much. You too Jess.” And without another word Steve ran back to his car and was racing off after Tony.

Jessica watched the tail lights disappear and then looked up to notice her co-worker standing awkwardly on the sidewalk beside them. Sharon tried a friendly smile.

“So, what are you stalking him now?” Jessica raised an eyebrow, looking her over.

“Jessica!” Carol’s eyes went wide and she flushed with second hand embarrassment.

“What?” Jessica rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone.

\---

Steve didn’t stop once to think about the fact that he didn’t really know where he was going. He left his car outside the park and took off calling for Tony at the top of his lungs. Night had nearly fallen, the sun was gone and only a ghost of light stayed behind in the sky.

Even in the low light Steve could see that he wasn’t out in the open areas of the park, he ran towards the more shadowed areas near the thick clusters of trees. And there he stopped. He could see something through the trees a uncanny sort of light twisting around like a dense swirl of fireflies. There there was a flash and eerie stillness, like the quiet after the slamming of a door.

For a moment, Steve held his breath but he couldn’t have told you why.

There was a rustle of underbrush and a form came out from the trees.

“Tony!”

“Steve!”

Tony's face lit up and he dashed the few yards that separated them. Steve opened his arms and crushed Tony in a hug.

"Tony, thank god you’re okay." Steve pushed him back for a moment to look at his face and then pulled him into his arms again. 

"I'm sorry, I ran away, I got scared." Tony said with a sort of fear and hesitation in his voice Steve was not accustomed to hearing.

"It’s okay. It just fine, you did good, you stayed safe," Steve assured him.

“You're not mad?” Tony asked cautiously, like he was afraid Steve might suddenly remember and push him away.

Steve looked down and asked him simply, “Tony did you start the fire?”

“No, I didn't, Steve, I swear I--”

“Shh that's fine, you’re fine. I believe you, Tony, I love you. I know you wouldn’t, even if you had it would have been just been an accident.” Steve swayed on his feet slightly, some of the adrenaline ebbing away leaving him drained. “I don’t know what we are going to do now and I'm shaking so hard I'm pretty sure I'm in shock but, we'll figure something out. You’re okay, that’s what matters.”

The sky gave up its last hint of blue and the stars came out in force, beneath them Steve and Tony held each other for a long while, quiet in the dark. They would get by somehow, Steve told himself, they could find a cheaper place and live tight for a while. But he didn’t have to do it alone, that was the most important part.

“Steve?” Tony asked after a long stretch of time.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, can I see your phone?”

Steve looked down at him in disbelief. “Honestly?”

“Please? I just need it a second.” Steve shook his head but pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave it to Tony anyway.

“You know I might have to get that turned off for a while. I can get something we can call each other on for emergencies but it’s not going to be anything fancy--”

“I already picked out the phone I want, well, a phone and a tablet. And-- I haven’t picked out a computer yet I think I might just bui--”

“Tony, stop. Please.” Steve wasn’t angry, not really, frustrated was more the thing. No matter how brilliant Tony seemed to be there was something about the concept of money he just couldn’t get into his head. Now it was just adding insult to injury. “You have to understand Tony I just don’t have the money, especially not now. It’s going to be really hard for a while--”

Tony rolled his eyes and just held the phone out under his nose.

Steve blinked.

And again.

He took the phone in his hands and goggled at the screen, “Tony what is--”

“That, Steve, is your bank account.” Tony began slowly. “Now do you believe me?”

“Believe what? Tony this isn’t right, I know that--”

“I’ve been trying to tell you forever!” Tony threw his hands up in frustration. “And you just. don’t. listen. You have plenty of money, you said you needed it, for rent and food and things, so I got you some.”

“What, how, you can’t just _get_ money.” Steve paled, Tony had gotten a hold of his credit card number, who’s to say he couldn’t get other peoples. He never told him that he shouldn’t and if he thought he was helping... Steve began to feel a bit ill.

“I made something and I sold it, that’s how you get money.” Tony explained.

“You didn’t steal it?”

“What, no. Then they would just take it back if they caught me, too risky.” More logic than morality but Steve was too relieved to complain. “No, you had all these little games on your phone that people were selling, so I made one, and some people bought it. Then _a lot_ of people bought it. Now you have a bunch of money. You’re welcome.”

“What?”

“Please don’t make me say all that again. Here, look.” Tony took the phone back and loaded up the game. A little black kitten ran back and forth on a colorful backdrop screen after pieces of bacon that fell from the sky.”

“Tony, this is the design work I did for my portfolio.”

“Yeah, it’s was on the laptop, I figured you wouldn’t mind, everyone really likes it. Most of the comments I get are on how cute the art is.”

“And you made this?”

“Yeah, I did try and show you, me and Jess were playing all through lunch the other day. I just launched it that morning.”

“I didn’t-- and you really made that much in less than two days?”

Tony shrugged. “If it’s not enough, I can make more stuff. I have lots of ideas and you can draw more things. Not just games, but other stuff, big stuff--”

Steve grabbed Tony by the shoulders and smothered the rest of what he was saying in a kiss. Tony made a little noise of surprise but caught on much faster this time, he slid his arms up around Steve’s neck. The big stuff could wait, more important now was finding a bed and somewhere to eat breakfast in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to everyone who commented and left kudos as this was being updated. You all really kept me going and working hard to make this story the best it could be for you guys and you've made writing this one of the best experiences I've ever had in any fandom. 
> 
> And thank you to my beta and wife Zaf who gave me the idea in the first place and has made a big mess of ideas something readable.
> 
> See you on the next one!


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